


A Cure for a King

by 15stepping



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Issues, Jealousy, Language Barrier, Love/Hate, Multi, Obsessive Behavior, Older Man/Younger Woman, Opposites Attract, Possessive Behavior, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Roman Catholicism, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:42:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12942324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/15stepping/pseuds/15stepping
Summary: Aethelswith, the Princess of Wessex, will face difficult choices as the pagans and the Great Heathen Army enter England.  Answering the tough questions of her own biases and contradicting thoughts of their leaders, will she be able to save any part of Wessex?Note: The rewrite is up, it is called "Killing Me Softly"





	1. The  dream is a prophecy… I Hope not

The dream is a prophecy… I Hope not  
Aethelswith  
It is a truth that is universally acknowledged that no girl, as well as people in general, ever want to sin, let alone want others to know about it. However, it is also known that If one does not confess then they end up in the fiery pits of hell. Even though I have had no control over what haunts me let alone what becomes of me after I die. But let’s get to the point, I’m headed to confession.  
The silence sang its somber song as dread filled my stomach. The saints in their perfect colored glass stare down at me. It’s like they already know what I did and have sentenced me. The same dream has haunted me for three weeks, but only now I come to confess. It’s not like I had control of said dream if I did It would have ended much differently. My hand shakes as I enter the chamber. I only hope the confessor shall not seek retribution too harshly as they are known to do here at the convent.  
“Hello, my child.” a sweet elderly voice rang out. It was Sister Edith who was known as the only lenient confessor. The chamber is claustrophobic, hot, humid as if the shame had followed me here.  
“ Hello, sister” I felt as though I could not speak. The lump in my throat weighed like a thousand bricks. At least it wasn’t Sister Augusta. She would see to it that I would receive physical punishment.  
“ What have you come to confess my child?”  
“ Sister, I have been haunted by the same dreams for three weeks now. I fear that it will never go away… that it is something… otherworldly”  
“Otherworldly? Describe it, my child. “  
“It always starts the same. I am in a forest, but it is not in our Christian land...

The dark, sentinel trees cover the night sky. There are no roads, no beasts, no people, only an unearthly silence. The earth beneath my feet is like ice. As I start to wander through the trees it is only then the sound hits.  
“Liten jente”  
The voice is deep, harsh, strong, and undeniably male.It is the language of the Northmen, the heathens. He’s covered in blood, with the metal glean of an axe in his hand, but I can never see his face.  
“Liten jente. Kom hit”  
I start running, but there is nowhere to go. The trees hinder me, turning into a maze, tearing my nightgown, and only serving to block and stumble any progress. His breath is deep and hoarse.  
”Kom hit min kjaerlighet”  
My lungs are on fire as he wanders through the underbrush. My thoughts ring through my head: stay hidden, stay quiet, do not be seen.  
“Jeg har deg min lille”  
A cold calloused hand grabs my neck as the blade comes to my neck. His breath hot against the skin of my neck. His lips touch my neck and-  
“I can not go on sister… but what he does to me should only be done by husband and wife”  
My face hot and flushed and shame burns through me as I waited for a reply.  
“I see my child, the carnal sin of lust has taken you in your dreams. Did you seek the man out?”  
If I did that I would surely receive a worst fate from the man. He enjoys the hunting of his prey.  
“Of course not Sister! I tried to run, but it never worked. For three weeks, I have tried to escape this heathen. I did not want to be hunted like an animal.I… I thought it would stop if I prayed, but it did not work ”  
“You should have come sooner my child and seek penance. We are born of the sin of Eve and are most susceptible to temptation. You must serve as a pure example to the other girls as a princess of Wessex”  
“I understand, sister”  
“ For penance, three weeks of fasting and ten ‘Hail Mary’s’ before a bed. ”  
She tried to sound severe in her punishment, but only succeed in sounding like she was scolding a dog.  
“May you go peace, In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti”  
“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti”

Notes:  
Liten jente is “little girl” in Norwegian  
Kom hit is “come here”  
Min kjaerlighet is “my love’ in Norwegian  
Jeg har deg min lille is “come here my little one”  
In Nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti is Latin for “in the name of the Father, the Son, and The Holy Spirit”.  
Aethelswith is fifteen at the beginning of this story. In modern times she would be considered underage, but in Anglo-Saxon times she would probably already be married. Historically, she was the only daughter of King Aethelwulf of Wessex and Osburn. She went on to marry King Burgred of Mercia at age 15, but they had no children.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aethelswith returns to Wessex from Whitely Abbey as The Great Heathen Army enters Northumbria.

A Discouraging Home Visit  
Winchester, Wessex  
The echoing from stone floor filled the throne room as Judith nervously paced. She hadn’t seen her daughter in nearly five years and had assumed she would never see her again. Only now that the heathen army had been spotted upon the shores of Northumbria was her little Asa recalled to Wessex. Would she make back in time and be safe in her mother’s arms before the heathens came?   
“Judith, you need to stop placing. She’ll be here soon” Aethelwulf said.   
Of course, he would say that, Judith thought. He had been one of the people to advocate for their daughter’s departure in the first place. As their marriage began to crack, so did their daughter.   
“ It has nearly been a week since we sent for her; she should be here by now!”  
She tried not to sound shrill, but to her, it sounded like he didn’t even care if she came back safe at all. The door opened and my little girl came through. She was sunburnt and dirty from the trip. Her veil askew and nails nearly chewed off. How she hated seeing her daughter constricted to a nun’s outfit.  
“Hello, mother, father” Aethelswith whispered. Her voice sounded hoarse and tired.   
“Hello, Asa” Judith’s whispered back. Last time she saw her daughter she was silently crying as a horse lead her to Whitley Abbey. As Judith went to hug her, Aethelwulf interrupted her.  
“Aethelswith, how about you get ready for dinner. I know your brothers will be excited to see you ‘   
Of course, he would do that to her, she thought. Trying to separate her children from her. It had started with Aethelred. When she was focused Alfred, Aethelwulf would train with Aethelred, teaching him swordplay, military strategy, religion. Gradually, lines were being drawn through their children.   
“Wife, let us get ready for supper as well” Aethelwulf replied coldly.  
“Of course, Husband” Judith responded

Aethelswith

Nothing had changed between her parents. The same cold civility had remained and I would say gotten worse. As a child, I would pray that things would be resolved between them, but only divine intervention could save their marriage now. Naively, I played the perfect daughter in an attempt to fix their marriage.   
My room seemed to be the only thing that had not changed. The four-poster bed with the hand-sewn quilt, my writing desks, the trunk, my books, and the only thing missing was my loom. My hands went over the rough wood of my writing desk. Days of practicing reading and writing Latin were behind me now. Those days of childhood are gone now, I realize as I look at the reflection in the glass window. My face still had the cheeks of a child, my sickly pale skin remained the same, my front teeth now had a small and annoying gap, but at least I looked a bit like my parents. I had my mother’s blue eyes and my father's dark brown hair. If they are planning to marry me off to ensure an alliance, then I hope my husband wouldn't be disappointed. That was the only reason that made sense to recall me from the abbey. Surely, if an attack was imminent, the abbey would be safer if they coming directly for my grandfather.  
‘ “Princess Aethelswith, we have come to escort to dinner,” a voice said jokingly.  
It was Aethelred, my younger brother, and at thirteen he was nearly as tall as myself. Behind him was Alfred.  
“ Of course my prince, I would be delighted to accompany you” I replied sarcastically.   
They had changed greatly but had the same facial features as when I left. An uncomfortable silence began as we walked. I would not be here if it the country was not in a dire circumstance.  
“ Has King Ecbert begun any plan of attack, yet” I inquired  
“No, he believes that we won’t be attacked by the heathens,” Alfred said.  
“What! That ‘s not possible, we have start preparing.” My voice echoed through the walls. Embarrassed, I started to whisper.  
“What about father, has he done anything?”  
“He called for troops, the lords of Mercia, Wessex, and East Anglia, an increased storage of crops, but that won’t help since it’s only June” Aethelred replied, condescendingly.  
“He’s hoping you’ll talk some sense into Grandfather” Alfred piped in.  
What could Alfred possibly mean by that? He was one that sent me away and ponder what would become of me. Waiting for five years, trying to please everyone and get the word that I could return.  
“He sent me away to ensure the power of the church. If father thinks I have any sway of the King, then he would be mistaken.”  
“He’s not the same as when you left. He’s-” Alfred muttered until Aethelred cut him off.  
“Weak, or going senile. Grandfather was convinced that the Vikings won’t come and attack us based on a promise with Rangar. Only for his crippled son to come back with his brothers to seek revenge.”  
“What do you know about them?”   
“Ivar is a great tactician, he played chess with me and almost won. He would be the one to watch.” Alfred stated  
“And his brothers?”  
“ The eldest is called Bjorn Ironside. He has a separate mother from his other brothers. Then, there is Ubba, not much is known about him. Next is Hvitserk, he and Bjorn attack Muslims in Algeciras, Spain. There’s Sigurd-Snake in the Eye, but the only thing known about him is that he has strange eyes.’” Aethelred had done his research. What’s more important is the lack of information. Ivar was the only one that came with his father to Wessex, then he is set apart from his brothers. As tactician and a cripple, he is not to be underestimated. Especially surviving in a society like the vikings.  
“How much time do we have until reach Wessex? We need to slow them down as much as possible.”  
“A few weeks at most, if we’re lucky, but it won’t make a difference if we are not able to raise enough men. Lord Edmund of East Anglia was directly attacked, and to make peace, he gave them horses and supplies. I doubt we can stall them until winter.” Aethelred made sense, but while they had the men and the motive, the sons of Ragnar wouldn’t stop until they got their revenge.  
“Why can’t we attack their ships?” Aethelred and I turned to stare at Alfred. Their ships would be heavily fortified and protected, but if they were successfully attacked then it buys the time Wessex needed.  
“How would you do it?” I asked  
“Well… while they were traveling through the river systems we could send out men on horseback and set their ship aflame. By learning their numbers through scouts, highly trained soldiers could make short work of a few of their ships and then flee. With woods as coverage, our men would have a natural defense.”  
“That’s brilliant Alfred! During the meeting with the lords, you and Aethelred must speak of this plan and put it into place immediately. Don’t back down when they comment about your ages and lack of experience” I said. Aethelred put a hand on Alfred's shoulder and nodded. He was always the dutiful soldier while Alfred was the scholar. Together, they were unstoppable and would come through for me.   
“ We’ll do it Aethelswith, don’t worry.”   
“Thank you, Aethelred”  
We were in front of the large oak paneled door leading to the dining room. The last time I was here was for my farewell feast. It more like a discarding feast, as they sent me away to an unknown future. My hands started shaking and mouth was dry. ‘Do your duty Aethelswith’ was the last thing King Ecbert said to me. No loving remarks from my father either, it was like a death sentence at the time. To be confined, judged, examined, and to wait until a final decision was made for me. Devote my life to some lord or to devote my life to God. Now, they would make the same decision for me again.  
“Princess Aethelswith, Prince Aethelred, and Prince Alfred” some guard called out for us to enter. My brothers grabbed my hands and we strode into the chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Please tell me what you think so far. I have not had much experience writing fanfiction. For those reading, this is mainly a Harald Finehair/Aethelswith writing. The name Asa comes from one King Harald Fairhair (who Harald Finehair is based on) wives. I personally think that Astrid is going to betray Harald. For Aethelswith looks, I used Anna Popplewell (Susan) from the Narina Series. When she is older, I envision her looking like Lola from Reign.


	3. A Feast I Would Rather not Remember

 

A Feast I Would Rather not Remember

 

The oak paneled doors opened to revealed several lords and my family. The hall was filled with dim candlelight.  A table was set for only ten people.  A Handsome man with dark eyes was eyeing me like a piece of meat, another was nervously sweating, the next was an unknown bishop, and the final man was Bishop Edmund.

“ My lovely granddaughter has returned!” King Ecbert called out as he came towards me. I made my deepest courtesy.

“My King, my lords, Bishops. Thank you for honoring me with this meal. It is most unexpected.” I suddenly felt embarrassed by the dress I was in. it was a simple dress of white wool, the standard for a novice of the abbey.

“ This Lord Burnard of Mercia, beside him, is Lord Bartholomew from Northumbria, Bishop John is an envoy from Lord Edmund in East Anglia, and you know Bishop Edmund.”

“Of course, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” I said.

Thank God, I was seated in between my mother and father. As pleasantly subsided midway through the meal, the real conversation began.

“My King, Princess Blaeja has had to flee Northumbria from the Heathen Army and seeks permission to come to Wessex,” said the shaking lord. He had beady eyes, large ears, and mousy brown hair.

“Of course she is welcome here as she is Judith’s sister. Please tell her to come at once, Lord Bartholomew! We’ll send some men to escort her. ” King Ecbert joyfully responded.

“Thank you, your Grace.” Lord Bartholomew responded. It looked as if he had more to say, but was too nervous to state it.

“What of Prince Ecgberht, is he unharmed?” I asked to the bewilderment of Lord Burnard.

“He has gone into hiding along with Queen Ealhswith, Princess.” Lord  Bartholomew quickly answered. SIghed with relief that his new was delivered, much to the aspiration to the rest those seated.

“Well, who is ruling Northumbria? Did you let the heathens overrun it! Is there any more news I should hear of as the leader of the army” My father exclaimed, while the veins on his forehead began to bug. Lord Bartholomew started sweating nervously while those at the table began to shift in their seats. My grandfather all the while remained calmly eating his meal.

“Prince Aethelwulf, I too have distressing news. Lord Edmund humbly beseech you to send aid to him, as Viking garrison has been set up in his kingdom. He fears for his life, and the heathens have started making demands that he renounce Jesus Christ.” Bishop John shyly announced.

It had been made clear that these men were desperate idiots. If Wessex would be able to prevent the sons of Ragnar advance for a fortnight, then I would consider it a miracle of God. My mother had just emptied her third cup of wine, Aethelred looked embarrassed, Alfred seemed to be silently praying, my father was ripping into the two envoys, while the king was obvious. Just another family dinner it seemed.

“Lord Burnard, what news do have for us? I do hope you forgive us for neglecting you.” I tripped and smiled sweetly. If the only thing I took away from my time from the abbey was how to change my face to please others, then I would be content.

“Yes Princess, I was going to tell your father that my lands in eastern Mercia are secure and my men have been patrolling the rivers in case they come from the east. Of course, I doubt they will travel there, so the majority are coming to assist our Christian cause” He replied although he said as if he talking to a child.  I saw my father break out into a smile.

“Thank you, Lord Burnard. Your news is most welcome. I only wish that the other lords were as forthcoming. Let us withdraw for the night.” My father took my mother’s hand and left exasperated.  

“Come, Asa, you must be tried. I’ll escort to your room”

“Of course grandfather” I replied. As I took his arm and we left the room.

 

Once we were out of earshot of the guards, Ecbert began to speak to me.

“ I had hoped you would have arrived earlier. Truthfully, I wanted you to meet Ragnar when he was here.”

“I heard you admired him, grandfather’ I responded coldly. They both loved Athelstan and Alfred. It was widely rumored they were friends. yet, he sent him to die all the same.

“Yes, I did, but our friendship won’t save our kingdom.” He sounded tired, unsure, and not like the King that I had left five years ago.

“Talk to Alfred” He turned to face me as soon as he heard Alfred name. It was undoubted that he was his favorite. Everyone could see it and the worst part was that he didn’t try to hide it.

“ I hope you will listen to his plan and implement it immediately in order to slow them down.” I continued.

“Yes, of course. I’ll put it forth when the lords meet, but that’s not why I wanted to talk to you’ He paused. “ I wanted you meet Ragnar’s crippled son Ivar and develop a relationship with him, but it appears that will not come to be.’” I could scarcely believe my ears.

“   I doubt that would have worked. You overestimate me and any skills I would have in ensnaring a man. I am no Jezebel, neither am I such a temptation to seduce a heathen. Besides, I would never give myself to a man who wishes the destruction of my family and country’ I said hotly. feeling a blush come to my cheeks and thinking of that nightmare. 

“Men always want what is pure and good. No doubt that they would think you a great prize that any man would want to possess. Lord Burnard certainly thought so.”

“Lord Burnard seeks to own me. Which I do not condone in the slightest. Are you going to make me marry him” I looked at him with my pleading blue eye that worked with him as a child.

“Heavens no!” He laughed, “Lord Burnard wants to be king of America, which I plan for Aethelred to inherit. Besides your much too good for him, but, if you're willing, toy with him. You’ll come to learn that it is best to keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” His voice had turned cold, like a true king. I took a breath to think, could I go against what was taught at the abbey.

“I If I had any power to turn brothers against each other, entice men, or seduce them, I’ll do it if it will save Wessex and my family,” I whispered to him and left, not even bothering to curtsy. I kneeled at the small altar in the corner of my room and started to pray. Feeling the silence wash over me the only though ringing was May God forgive me if I succeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aethelswith is commonly called "Asa" by her family and friends. Please tell me if anything does not make sense and leave comments! Happy Holidays!


	4. The Fall of Streonshalh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fall of Whitely Abbey causes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for mentions of rape and some signs of post-traumatic stress disorder.

The Fall of Streonshalh Late June, Viking encampment outside of Whitley Abbey, Northumbria

Joan

Hatred was the only thing that filled Joan’s blood. Hearing the cries of the nuns and girls that hadn’t died when the Vikings attacked Whitley, haunted her throughout the night. The man who had taken her had yet to rape her. His weathered hands were content with stroking her red hair and provoking him only made him laugh. It's rather ironic she thought, killing three men in the attack only seemed to endear him to her.

She remembered the bells ringing in alarm, as cries of panic grew louder. She had been in the barn and hid like a coward. Climbing into the hayloft her green eyes saw everything. A cold fear flowed into her blood and paralyzed her. The foreign men broke thru the gate with ease and started slaughtering the monks making the courtyard rain with blood. Screams filled the air as they broke into the girls' dormitory. Some tried to fight back, but most run in panic. A flash of blonde hair ran into the barn. It was Sarah: A small, pretty, almost elf-like girl follow by one those heathens. He grabbed her by the hair and slammed her down on the ground. Her body moved on her on as if possessed. She jumped down on him from the hayloft, tumbling in a jumble of punches. A fist went into her eye, another into her stomach that made her double over in pain, and then nothing. Blood was the first thing she noticed, it came from a pitchfork through the bastard’s skull.

“You alright Joan?” Sarah asked shakingly. Her face was a mess with a broken nose and a split lip.

“Yes” was the only thing she could utter.It wouldn’t be the last man they would kill that day.

She came out of a daze and wondered where the rest them were. Gertrude was taken by a bear of a man. Pretty Ainsley was taken by one of the leaders, but with when he wasn’t looking she killed herself. Would she do the same given the chance? Remembering the bodies in the church, several of the sworn nuns cut off the noses and scarred their faces in an attempt to dissuade the heathens from taking them, while some had committed suicide instead of being raped. The demons had killed the monks, all the men, and women they deemed too old to tempt them. She didn’t know what happened to Sarah, they had been separated after she was captured by him.

Sven was his name, apparently, he was someone of importance. He had men called him _Kung Sven_ , had his own tent, boats, soldiers. In a queer sense, Joan supposed she was lucky. The ropes were chafing her hands as she kept trying to break out of them. When he came in. Unfortunately, he was handsome; he was tall with blonde hair tied in a ponytail and blue-gray eyes. Perfect to put a knife thru, she thought. He had a gruff look on his face, clearly upset by something, but smiled at her.

“Min brann, jeg liker at du skal møte noen mennesker” he called out.

Several men came in. It hit her, they were the sons of Ragnar with two other men. She gathered all the saliva in her mouth and spat at the nearest one.

“Bastards!” she yelled. While they just seemed to laugh it off. Until the cripple began to speak to her.

“Now that’s not very nice is it. Especial since King Sven been so good to you” he said mockingly. Her black eye ached as well as the bruises she had formed when Sven took her down. He continued, “Now, I’ve heard that you were rather close with Princess Aethelswith”

“Yeah, we got in trouble together, if that’s what you mean.”Cleaning stalls, saying prays, sneaking around, it was fun. It didn’t matter that she was a princess while she was the troublesome daughter of a farmer with too many daughters to marry off.

“Where is she” he growled. “I was told she would be here”

“ I’ll tell you where she is if you let all of the girls you captured go and do not come after us,” she said. It was a false bravado, but it was a wager she needed to make. Sister Maude had managed to get some of the younger girls away, while the monks did there best buying time and raising the alarm to get some to escape. However, at least 100 girls were captured ranging in age from 12 to 20. All the others were killed, the smell of burning flesh wouldn’t leave her nose as they torched the abbey. Ivar the boneless relayed the message. The giant blonde seemed to take her request seriously, snake-eyes dismissed it, several of them laughed, Sven seemed forlorn, but the man with the long brown braid was seething. He wanted to find her, not for the strategic value, but for himself, it seemed to Joan. With a swift movement, the cripple held a blade against her throat.

“Or we could just torture you until you talked.” He wore a sick smile on his face. A face that showed an enjoyment of cruelty

"We're more loyal than you think. Asa is our friend, our sister, torture won't persuade me or anyone else. What you've done to us, the sworn brides of Christ will never be forgiven or forgotten" she hissed.  Sven looked at her with such intensity she couldn't tell if it was with admiration, lust, or hatred. 

Then the blonde giant tore him away and lifted up ten fingers. It dawned on her that they were negotiating. He wouldn't budge past 25, but she had more information to give. She knew that snake eye wanted Princess Blaeja, he killed 15 people trying to get to her. It seemed to Joan that he was a man obsessed given the rage in his eyes when she escaped.

“Blaeja of Northumbria, I’ll tell you where she and Aethelswith went for all the girls 14 and under to be released” she saw snake eyes light up at her name while Ivar translated. Was selling them out to save others wrong? They had castle, armies, ways to protect them, while the common people were left to be hunted. In reality, only God could save any of them now. The blonde giant was in charge now, instructing Ivar for the deal.

" We agreed, now talk" He growled while grabbing her chin roughly.

"The tracks will lead you to York, but they are fake. Princess Blaeja was invited to join King Ecbert of Wessex and Merica should Northumbria fall. Aethelswith left a week and a half ago. They'll both be in Winchester." She finally realized how tired she was now. As if the past day's events had caught up with her body. All the people she knew were gone in one way or another. Numbness, it was all she could feel now. 

"Sarah, do you know where she is. Blonde hair, green eyes, short, pretty, " Joan pleaded. "Please, tell me" That got his attention; he liked submission.

"Hvitserk took her. He's always liked blondes" He smiled with glee.  She knew it going to get worse before it got better and the only hope now was that Aethelswith would get them out of this living nightmare.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vikings raided Whitely Abbey, called Streoneshalh during Anglo-Saxon times, from 867-870 when the Great Heathen Army was in England. Please Comment and tell me what you think!


	5. How Many Blades of Grass are there in a Field?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The army of Wessex has been defeated and Aethelswith makes the decision to stay behind.

 

Early July, Winchester, Wessex  

Aethelswith

Blaeja had taken to praying excessively, even more than the Bishop it seemed. That was where we were now. Inside of the church on there knees praying. My body ached from the turbulent night I had. I just keep seeing the stone walls of the abbey on fire while bodies laid on the ground unburied and rotting.In some ways, Whitley Abbey was my fault. The heathens had gone there for me. To use as a hostage, no doubt.  What had become of them. Were they all dead, or the worse option taken as slaves?  If God did not deliver us from the plague of heathens, then I prayed that they would rot in the deepest pit of hell for what they did to Sister Edith, Sarah, Joan, Mae, Constance, Ainsley, and for the others lost to them. 

The only upside is I hadn’t dreamt of  _ him _ at all. His gruff voice, his callused hands, rough touch, his hot lips against my own, and his hands sliding up my dress. I needed to stop thinking about him. God had delivered me from that man, and if was he is in their army my father would personally cut him down. He had left an hour ago to attack the army, not letting any of his children accompany him. Nothing had gone well. The Hundreds of ships that the Vikings had only ten were successfully burnt according to Alfred’s plan. It was her father that hindered it. He wanted a straight out attack in an open field, but we should be using the turf to surprise and quick attacks with small parties. The heathens had the numbers. Why couldn’t her father understand that the tactics he was using wouldn’t work?

“They Blood Eagled my father. Do you think they’ll do that to us?” Blaeja whispered. It was the first time she spoke that day. I got up and turned to her. 

“No, they’ll do that to my father and King Ecbert” I responded. I didn’t want to think about the possibility of death or the worse option of being taken alive.  Blaeja got up and we left the church. A silent understanding was between us: no amount of praying could help us anymore.  We turned to go and started walking towards the throne room.

“I want them crucified. For what they did to my family, my country, and to Christians.” Blaeja spoke with such bitterness I didn't think her capable of it.  Her black eyes bore into mine.

“I speak to you in confidence.That I cannot rest while the sons of Ragnar live. He will hunt me to the ends of this country until I am his or I am dead. If they come here, then I will not leave” she whispered. Her face was only made more beautiful with grief. She hesitated, before continuing

“When they came to the abbey, they were looking for you. There… there was this man with a crazed look in his eyes. He kept calling your name” she whispered. A cold stab of fear went thru my heart. It couldn’t be him. He wasn’t real. The ringing of the bells drew me away before I could say anything. Had we, against all odds, defeated the pagans? Blaeja and I entered the throne room just in time when my father came in.

“We’re defeated. They’ll be here soon. Father, sire, wife, children, Blaeja. We must leave here and find safety elsewhere. Go now!”   My father said. My knees were weak and heart started beating faster. Would any place be safe from them? 

“ I cannot leave this place” My grandfather responded. 

“Father, your the king. I cannot allow the king of our country to fall into the hands of our enemies” father exclaimed. Out of the blue Blaeja came forward.

“I cannot go. I will stay here. There is no use trying to outrun them for me. My brother is safe and Northumbria does not have a need for me. I am content to die”, Blaeja stated like a queen.  She looked at me to see if I would agree to stay with her. It was as if she knew they would hunt me down as well.

“So, will I. There is no need for me to with you. I do not want a repeat of what happened at Whitley Abbey” I whispered. My mother was horrified and my brothers looked shocked.     

“Did you not hear me.  we have to go now!” my father exclaimed. My mother grabbed both of us forcefully and led us out of the room. 

“Boys, I need you grab some food and clothing quickly” she stammered as my brothers rushed away to do as they were bid. Her hands grabbed ours.

“You have to come with us! I will not let my sister or my only daughter sacrifice themselves like this! ” she was on the verge of tears. Blaeja yanked her arm away,

“ I am my own person now. If they hunted me down to Whitley, then what will stop them from hunting me down anywhere! I have delivered myself into the hands of God and only he can save me, sister.”   Blaeja retorted assertively.  My mother watched as she left. She looked as if death had taken her.

“My Asa, you can’t leave me. Please, we have to leave.  They’ll do horrible things to you!” she pleaded.  I hated that she looked at me like that.  Why did she care now? My parents sent me away, why would it bother them now if I stayed behind.  

“ I want to be with grandfather. I owe it to him for allowing me to come back home. Besides you have Alfred and father has Aethelred. What does it matter if I stay behind ?!” I accused. 

“Your father and I love you. We just wanted the best for you.” she somberly said. The throne doors opened tore open to reveal my father. 

“He said that he wanted her to be with him when the heathens come.” He had a forlorn look on his face as he pulled out his dagger and hands it to me.

“ Asa, take this. If anyone tries to harm you do not hesitate to kill them” he kissed my head and continued. “I am going to be made the king. Judith gets the boys we must be ready to leave. Aethelswith, once they attack and take the castle I want you and Blaeja to hide until you are sure that they won’t do anything to harm either of you”

“ I promise I will do anything in my power to save Wessex, my King” 

He was made king by the bishop and I went to say my goodbyes to my brothers. My cross necklace I handed to Aethelred.

“Red, I know that you’ll be a great warrior and king. Trust in God and be a good big brother”  I said as I cried. 

“ I promise I’ll come back to avenge you and grandfather” he replied angrily.

“ I don’t  need to be avenged. If I do  die have faith that I will be with the Lord.” I turned to Alfred and twisted my ring off my finger.

“Alfred, I know you’ll be a good son to our parents and helpful brother the Aethelred. Do not forget me in your prays” 

“I will not, I promise” he cried. 

I watched from my room as they left. My father gave my final look of regret while I could only see my mother holding back tears. May God help me now.

The throne room had an uncomfortable silence. Blaeja and I dressed in our finest. Her, in a black underdress with gold embroidery and an overdress of dark yellow. A golden circlet framed her dark locks while she clutched her rosary in pray. I had a rose pink gown with a blue undress while my dark brown hair was thinly veiled. I was clutching my pearl beaded rosary just as tightly.  

“Asa,  remember when I teaching you Latin. Such a bright mind… would you like to learn some of the Northmen’s language?” he questioned. I didn’t understand where he was going with this. He was growing increasingly tense.

“Of course” I replied

“Ja in their language means Yes, Nei means No-----” He was interrupted by a crashing above us. They were destroying the castle and the smell of burning paper was filtering through the door. They had likely burnt down the library.

“Asa, will you help me. It is time to go out and face them” I got up with him and started walking with him. As we walked through the burning halls he started talking to me once again.

“Now you remember what I told when Lord Burnard was here” I nodded as he continued, “Use them to your advantage and do not show them your true emotions, remain like a stone if they bother you,” he stated encouragingly. As we headed out into the light. The beating in my heart grew louder as I willed my face to be stoic. It was chaos with buildings aflame or destroyed, as we made our way to the pagans. They parted ways as we walked through.  Sneers and wide eyes greeted us as we made of the way through the crowd. 

“Stoppe!” cried out a large man with a blonde braid. Soon men started to surround us with swords. A man with blues eye bore into mine. Like a predator, he stalked towards me and pressed his blade against my neck but didn’t make a mark. He was too close for comfort, with a smile almost predatory in look. A calloused hand held a strand of my dark brown hair. He smelt of blood, sweat, and danger. The blonde continued,

“    Dette er konge Ecbert og hans barnebarn Princess Aethelswith ” he stated as continue stalking towards us.  When he looked at us and turned to his soldiers,

“Jeg bestiller deg for å spare dem”.  They all lowered their swords but the man remained close enough to make me uncomfortable. Yet, in what way either my grandfather or I would be killed was to be determined.

  
  


  1. This is king Ecbert and his granddaughter Princess Aethelswith.
  2. I order you to spare them



[ https://pin.it/bzimoyzkrjb7ot ](https://pin.it/bzimoyzkrjb7ot)  necklace

[ https://pin.it/3unwxdci26fn3g ](https://pin.it/3unwxdci26fn3g)  ring

Blaeja's dress and circlet [https://pin.it/rogjejaqztznow](https://pin.it/rogjejaqztznow) [https://pin.it/f55jxr5gfxolk5](https://pin.it/f55jxr5gfxolk5) [https://pin.it/jxe5rrlp7sabl6](https://pin.it/jxe5rrlp7sabl6)

Aethelswith's dress  [ https://pin.it/iuivfn6dwuvnic ](https://pin.it/iuivfn6dwuvnic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think!


	6. Fear and Obession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Impressions leave much to be desired, as Awethelswith is meet by King Harald again.

 

 

Aethelswith, Evening, Winchester, Wessex 

 

I suppose it was only fitting that I am placed in a cell. Dark, Damp, and filthy, was this where they placed Ragnar when he was arrested?  Gripping my rosary prevented my nails from being chewed on but hardly stopped my anxiety. It had been an hour since I was put in this cell. No word from my grandfather or Blaeja. It wasn’t the damp, cold, filth, or the hunger that was the worst; it was the waiting.  The only comfort was having female guards, but they wouldn’t talk to me. Although, it wasn’t like we could understand anyway. The door open to reveal the men that had put swords to my grandfather.  The brunette and the blond with what I now realized were matching tattoos. did the guards let them in? His horrible blue eyes bore into mine as he came stalking towards me. He held out his hand to me from the mat I sitting on. My throat tightened and my pulse speed up as I took his hand. Didn’t the nuns warn me about men, especially those who were dark and handsome? 

His hand was rough like leather. Blue eyes traveling up and down my body until he settled for staring at my face.

“Prinsesse Aethelswith,” he points to himself and then to the man behind him. “Konge Harald Fint  Hår, min bror Halfdan den svarte. 1 ” He smirked with a captivating smile.  I smiled back while trying to remove my hand. His hand wouldn’t let go of mine as he brought it up to his lips. My other hand moving without thought, as the sound of a stinging slap, rang out. My hand trembled as I moved away to the corner. What had I done?  Would he hit me? I just wanted him to stop touching me, but he wouldn’t. I heard a dark laughter.come of him.

“ Synes min prinsesse har en bit til henne.” he chuckled to the man called Halfdan. 

“Flink. Hvis du skal ta en kristen som kone, trenger hun litt styrke til henne.” he laughed back.

Although Harald was laughing he had a mixture of anger and sadness in his eyes. As if I had betrayed him. I found my voice and spoke 

“Nei, Konge Harald” I whispered as I gestured to my hand. Hoping I said it correctly. He smiled and nodded, as he pointed to the opened cell door. 

“Konge Ecbert” he said as he and Halfdan left out the door waiting for me to come out.   _ Konge  _  it must mean king, but if that is the was the case… I slapped a king. I could feel a blush rise to my cheeks as I left my cell. The two female guard stood in front of me as we walked through the corridors. Yet I could feel the eyes of the men behind me as we made our way to my grandfather.His eyes followed me; t was like a predator hunting its prey. I remembered the dagger against my leg if they tried anything I could still use it, but would it truly be for the best?  Would resisting really get me anywhere?

 

Harald

Obsession was the word to describe what had taken place since she started haunting his dreams. It had started after Ellisif had told him the truth: she married another man and broke her promise to him. He swore that he would never make the same mistake again, but the gods had other plans for him. Every disappointment and heartbreak came back to him when he looked at her and he decided that no other man would take her from him.

Seeing her in his dreams had been enough at first. Her petite body running through the forest, curly brown hair flying in the wind, blue eyes staring into his, but instead of excitement in her eyes, they only showed fear. Just like when he kissed her hand. He wanted her to smile, for him to hold her, to touch her hair, to consummate what had been done in his dreams. Instead, she turned into ice. He remembered when she came with King Ecbert out into the courtyard. The castle destroyed and aflame, she walked out like a Valkyrie but wore that horrid cross that was the mark of the Christians. His sword went to her porcelain neck, while his other hand went to her hair.  _ Christians _ how he hated them. They were bent on destroying them and their gods. He had raped, killed, tortured and enslaved Christians, and enjoyed it all. Why did she have to be one of them? Why did she have to be the one he wanted, desired, and needed above any other women? 

When dreaming of her hadn’t been enough, he had gone to the seer to find her. 

The seer had said in a raspy voice “You must go west to find what you desire, to Wessex. But beware, she’ll bend but never break to your will, trust in her and she shall reward you more than the other women you take. Fire and Ice, naivete and wisdom, what a match you two will make. ” 

His brother protested but believed that only possessing her would relieve him of his torment.  Even now, watching his princess walk in front of him wasn’t enough. As they made their way to King Ecbert, he willed himself from not taking her right then and their. They made it to the throne room and saw King Ecbert in a cage suspended from the ceiling. Where hebelongedg, thought Harald. The sons of Ragnar looked at Aethelsith too long for his liking when she started talking to her grandfather. It was the english language, but something more light and flowy. Just listening to her speak was enough to forgive her slapping him earlier. Although, he did come on too fast for his princess liking.

“ Have any trouble with her?” Ivar asked

“ Nothing we couldn’t handle, though she is a little skittish’ He replied laughing. 

He liked Ivar. he was a true ruthless viking, but his look lingered too long on Aethelswith. Just like when she came out into the courtyard; there were too many men looking at her and thinking the same thing he was. If anyone tried to take her from him, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill them.

“What are they saying, Ivar?” Bjorn asked.

“ Their not speaking English. I think they’re speaking Latin. It’s what they pray to their god in” he replied. Harald noticed that his princess was becoming distressed. She must have known that he was going die one way or another. 

“What is wrong with her” Hvitserk questioned . Then the king began to speak.

“ My granddaughter as well as Princess Blaeja were under the impression that they would be killed following their capture, but since our agreement was made… you and the people under your command promised to not harm either one of them. Asa is rather disappointed in the outcome”

He could not believe his ears if, why would want her death. Was she like those nuns they attacked? Rather than being taken by them, they decided to either scar their faces or kill themselves. Would she do the same? An ice-cold rage came over him. If anyone tried to kill her, he would make them wish that they had been taken by a Draugr than face his wrath.   As she walked past him, her face had gone again to the guarded hard exterior she had shown before, but gave him a short smile before she left the room. If only she would smile at him like that forever, then he would never be unhappy again. 

  1. King Harald FineHair, my brother Halfdan the Black 
  2. Seems, my princess has a bite to her.
  3. Good. If your going to take a christian as a wife she needs some strength to her.



Draugr [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Draugr](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Draugr) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Tell me what you think! The updates will be slow from now on since I am returning to my college classes on the eighth. Tell me if you think Harald is out of character.


End file.
